


Can You Beat My Uncle in a Fight?

by bethagain



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: But mostly fluff!, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Din visits Luke's Jedi school, Family, Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hugs, I mean we've all decided that Life Day is basically Christmas right?, Life Day (Star Wars), Presents, absolute self-indulgent fluff, and pretend lightsaber battles, because couldn't we all use some right now, oh ok and a teeny bit of angst because I mean this is Din, you choose the goggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28332447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethagain/pseuds/bethagain
Summary: It's Life Day at Luke's Jedi school, and Din Djarin's come to spend the holiday with Grogu. Featuring laughter, cookies, family. Plus Luke and Din having a pretend lightsaber battle with cardboard wrapping paper tubes.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 57
Kudos: 498





	Can You Beat My Uncle in a Fight?

**Author's Note:**

> This exists because a stranger on tumblr was looking for art prompts, and it occurred to me that I wanted to see Din and Luke have a battle using those cardboard tubes left over from wrapping paper. And then, because of course you can't ask strangers to draw things and then have any expectation that they'll actually do it... and I _really_ wanted to see this happen... I had to write it. 
> 
> The school on Miriyan is my own invention. I don't know where the heck Luke's academy is in canon, but in my head, it's the version in this story.

He still has to work. That makes his schedule unpredictable. 

Sometimes the work is for the New Republic. He’s not sure how he feels about that, yet. The rules haven’t changed: find them, bring them in. Alive if possible. Otherwise not. Din looks at the row of carbonite slabs in his new ship’s hold and thinks, Miggs Mayfeld. He kind of had a point.

The new ship isn’t bad. It’s good, actually. It’s got sleeping quarters that were built for sleeping. Amazing to wake up each morning without every muscle aching. Years back, he’d chalked that up to getting older. Accepted it as normal. 

He’d accepted a lot of things as normal. 

The ship’s on course now for Miriyan, where the _jetii_ ’s school sits in a clearing, surrounded by tall trees. He’s a day late, but it can’t be helped. Job ran long. He’d rather have let the quarry live, but sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to. 

The school is a nice place. Peaceful, if you don’t count kids sparring with pretend lightsabers in the open courtyard. That part makes it feel homey though, if you’re a Mandalorian. In fact, he’s been meaning to talk to Luke about that. Those kids could be much further along. Maybe he should offer to help.

He finds himself shaking his head, thinking about it. A _jetii_ sorcerer trusting a Mandalorian? And vice versa? Ancient enemies, the Armorer said. But it turned out, when he brought it up, Luke barely knew anything about it either. 

“Yeah,” he said, “apparently that was a thing. Do you mind?”

And Din said, “No.” And that was that. 

In fact, the main reason he takes these New Republic jobs is because Luke recommends him. The young _jetii_ ’s heart seems to be in the right place, even if the work is sometimes iffy. Din can’t exactly explain why he trusts him. 

But if he weren’t running on instinct right now, he’d probably grind to a stop altogether. 

Miriyan’s sky is golden with sunset as his ship touches down next to an X-wing, a couple of A-wings, and a freighter that looks like it’s seen better days. It’s a hike from the airfield to the school, but he knows the way. The forest rustles around him. Now and then a twig snaps or something scampers. Luke said Miriyan didn’t have any large predators, but Din still keeps a hand near his blaster. 

By the time he gets to the courtyard, the day has settled into evening. Light from the main building’s windows stands out, looking welcoming and warm against the blue of late twilight. 

Din knows by now that he doesn’t have to knock. He presses the catch on the simple wooden door and steps into the common room. He barely has the chance to take in the cheerful chaos--groups of people gathered in comfortable chairs and seated on the floor, colored lights strung about the rafters and a bright blaze in the large fireplace--before he’s surrounded by children clamoring, “He’s here, he’s here! Grogu he’s here!”

Grogu’s still only halfway across the floor, toddling on his little legs, so one of children runs back to get him. Din can’t follow without running down another child, so he waits for the boy to bring Grogu to him. The boy’s got a bright smile that looks a lot like Luke’s. The smile turns shy when he’s actually facing a tall, beskar-clad Mandalorian. 

Din kneels down to his level. He’s careful to say, “Thank you,” before lifting Grogu from the boy’s hold. The little arms immediately reach out for him, settling around his neck as the child snuggles his head into the space between his breastplate and chin. 

“I missed you too, kid.”

When he looks up again, the children are still gathered around, watching with rapt attention. “That’s the cutest thing _ever_ ,” one of the little girls breathes. Din’s grateful to see Luke on his way over. A _jetii_ rescuing a Mandalorian might not exactly go with the Creed, but he’ll take it. 

“All right, all of you. There’s hot chocolate over by the fire. Get going! Scram!” Luke’s voice is kind, underlaid with a sense of laughter. The children giggle as they scatter.

“Job go ok?” Luke asks as Din straightens up, shifting Grogu to the crook of his arm. The child coos happily, looking from Luke to Din with big eyes and a bigger smile. 

“Well enough,” Din says. “I’m afraid you won’t need to have a trial.”

“Ah,” Luke says. “You ok about that?”

No one’s ever asked him that before. 

Finally Din shrugs one shoulder, and Luke nods. “Come sit with us. You’re a lot more interesting than that hot chocolate, the kids are going to be all over you again any minute. They’re a little more shy with my sister. Maybe we can buy you a bit of a reprieve.”

Din follows him across the large hall, weaving their way through groups of adults and children. Everyone’s got mugs of warm drinks and plates of snacks. Every now and then, as he passes, he hears an adult scolding a child: _Shhh, don’t stare!_

The lights aren’t just decorating the rafters, they’re strung around the large windows, too. Boughs of some kind of fir tree decorate the walls. Must have been brought in from the forest. 

He has a vague idea that this is how people decorate their homes for Life Day. He’s never celebrated it. He’s never been invited to the home of someone who does. 

Grogu babbles happily on the way. Din has no idea what he’s saying. “Did you?” he asks when the child pauses for breath. “Yes? Really? That sounds fun.”

Luke leads him to a group of squishy chairs arranged in a corner. “My sister Leia,” he says, and a lovely young woman with intricately braided hair nods hello. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says. “Luke says Grogu goes on about you non-stop.”

The boy who’d brought the child to him is sitting at Leia’s feet. Din looks over at Luke. “Your son?” he asks.

“My nephew. Ben. He belongs to Leia and Han.” 

Han is apparently the man slouched comfortably in the chair across from Leia, a tumbler of what looks like whisky in his hand. “Welcome,” he says. “Can I get you something? For a mystical sorcerer, Luke stocks a pretty good bar.”

“No, thank you.”

Han’s unfazed. “Luke wasn’t sure if you’d--” He waves in the direction of Din’s helmet. “Let me know if you change your mind, yeah?”

“I will.”

Luke’s pulling another chair over. He slides it into place next to Leia, then collapses into the empty chair on her other side, kicking his feet up onto the low table in front of them. Din settles into the chair, Grogu on his lap. The baby reaches for a plate of colorful cookies that Luke’s boots narrowly missed. “Those aren’t yours,” Din starts to say, but Ben immediately lifts the plate so the child can reach.

“Which one do you want?” Ben asks, as Grogu stares at the plate in delight. “You can have two if you want.”

The chair is comfortable. The room is warm. The chatter all around feels friendly. Grogu’s weight against him settles something in his mind, a part of his brain he hadn’t even realized had been on high alert for weeks. 

Luke seems to sense that he needs a minute. He’s chatting quietly with Leia and Han, something about Outer Rim settlements, until Ben finally throws up his hands and announces, “You’re all so _boring!_ ”

“Ben,” Leia starts to scold, although Din notices she’s hiding a smile. 

Han just grins outright at his son. “I guess we are. Too much talking. You have a better idea?”

Ben looks like he wants to say something, but he’s suddenly shy again. He sidles over to his father and whispers.

“You better ask him,” Han says. “Go on, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to bite.”

Ben whispers again. Din, curious, taps the mic control on his helmet to turn up the sound. He catches the end of Ben’s question. “....beat Uncle Luke in a fight?”

It’s not polite to listen in like that, so Din waits until Ben, still standing close to his Dad, repeats the question. 

“I read about Mandalorians. You’re the best warriors in the galaxy. Could you beat my Uncle Luke in a fight?”

Luke bursts out laughing. “I don’t know,” he says to Din. “Could you?”

Ben’s waiting for an answer. Grogu’s bouncing on Din’s lap now, waving his hands and babbling again. It sounds pretty insistent. 

Luke answers Grogu seriously. “We could find out. I don’t know if your dad wants to, though.”

Something in Din’s brain short-circuits for a second at the phrase “your dad.” While he’s recovering, Luke and Ben are discussing options. 

“I don’t think a lightsaber fight would be a good idea, Ben. Do you?”

Ben looks around the busy room, at children chasing each other, at families laughing. “No. Someone might get hurt.”

“That reminds me,” Luke says. “You still have that Darksaber?”

“It’s back on the ship. More trouble than it’s worth to carry.”

“Have you learned how to use it?” Bo Katan asked that once, and the scorn in her voice was nearly as sharp as the laser blade. Luke sounds genuinely curious. 

“I’ve trained with swords,” Din says. “I can’t really practice with it on board. The ship’s not made of beskar.”

“Good point,” Luke says. “I destroyed more than a few pieces of furniture when I was learning.”

Ben’s not letting this go. “He knows how to use a sword,” he says to Luke. “I bet you’re really good at it,” he adds to Din. 

Din finds himself smiling behind his helmet. “I’m not too bad.”

Just then, tumult and shouts from across the room have Luke getting to his feet. Din slides his left arm protectively across Grogu’s middle as his other hand hovers by his blaster. But it’s just a bunch of kids play-fighting, and most of the noise turns out to be laughter. 

Somewhere the kids have found a bunch of cardboard tubes, and they’re cheerfully batting each other with them in a boisterous approximation of a lightsaber battle. It’s nothing like the carefully orchestrated sparring Din has seen on other visits here. This is a free-for-all. Kids are getting bonked on the head and whacked on the back, and they’re all laughing like mad the whole time. 

Luke’s family have abandoned their comfy chairs and come along to watch. 

Din’s with them, mystified by the whole thing until Leia explains. “They’re from the paper we use to decorate gifts. If you’d been here last night, you’d have gotten to see. We made a party out of getting everyone’s presents wrapped.”

Her tone is kind. Luke must have told her he’s not familiar with this whole Life Day thing. But Din’s having another moment: _Gifts._ He didn’t even think of gifts. 

“Don’t worry,” Leia says, apparently realizing. “We made sure there’s something for Grogu. The children wanted to wait until you got here to open presents, so we’re doing that later tonight. You’ll get to see.”

Why are these people being so nice to him? It must all be for Grogu. He’s grateful. “Thank you.”

While they’re talking, Ben grabs up a spare cardboard tube and dashes into the fray. He immediately gets bopped in the shoulder and spins around to hit the other kid on her backside. Leia smiles, Han starts cheering Ben on, and Luke--Luke’s got a maniacal sparkle in his eyes. 

Din watches, impressed, as Luke shifts into Jedi Master mode. His face goes solemn, his back is straighter, every movement suddenly more measured. He strides into the fray, the children’s own movements slowing as they watch him. They don’t seem afraid. It seems more like respect. 

Luke gently takes a cardboard tube from one of the older boys, who hands it over and steps back. The Jedi Master moves into a fighting stance, cardboard tube balanced in his hands and looking for all the world like a lightsaber--if it weren’t so completely absurd.

“All right, Mandalorian,” he says, and his tone’s filled with laughter and that solemn expression’s turned back to a grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

There’s no saying no. The kids are all cheering now. Even the parents are getting in on it. “Two credits on the Jedi Master,” one of the men calls out, and someone replies with, “My bet’s on the Mandalorian,” and Leia’s got her head in her hands but she’s laughing through her fingers. 

“Looks like you don’t get a choice,” Han says, offering to take the child. “Go on, wipe the floor with him.”

Ben holds out another cardboard tube. Din, half amused and half horrified by this whole thing, reaches out and takes it. 

It’s close. Din’s not sure if Luke’s holding back, but he sure isn’t. It’s only sparring, of course. He knows how to do that without hurting his opponent. Not that getting bopped with cardboard would do much harm anyway, but the goal is not to get hit. He’s breathing hard but he can still hear everyone cheering as he forces Luke back toward a corner, then has to duck and roll, narrowly avoiding the _jetii_ 's sudden counterattack. 

He should probably be embarrassed. This is about the furthest thing from dignified that he can imagine. Mandalorians train with real weapons, not these… they’re not even toys. They’re pretend things. 

This really should not be so much fun. 

The battle ends when Luke finally manages to land a blow. Din’s on his back on the floor, Luke leaning over him. He’s already got one boot against the _jetii_ ’s stomach, ready to throw him back across the room, when that cardboard tube sneaks in low and connects with a pauldron. In a real fight a hit against his armor would barely have registered. But this isn’t a real fight. 

Din concedes with grace, accepting Luke’s hand to pull him to his feet. 

All around them, credits are changing hands as the kids run up to surround them both. Din expects them to congratulate Luke, but mostly they want to talk to him. 

“How’d you do it?” 

“You almost beat him!”

“Can you teach us?”

“Master Luke, can he teach us?”

Luke’s brushing dust from his shirt and trousers, still grinning. “I don’t know, maybe. Let’s let him catch his breath, ok? We can ask him later.”

By the time they get to opening presents, Din’s exhausted. Watching the kids open their gifts is nice, but he’s content to sit back away from it all, Grogu snuggled on his lap again as the two of them let the party go on around them. Ben brings Grogu’s gift over. The child tears happily at the colorful paper, adding it to the cheerful litter of wrapping that’s now covering the floor. Inside the box is a plush toy in the shape of a bantha. Even the curled horns are made to be soft. 

“He told us about your adventure on Tatooine,” Ben explains, as Grogu examines the toy with delight. The child cuddles it to his chest for a moment, then holds it out to Din. 

“You want me to tell him?” Ben asks the child. Din realizes, startled, that Luke’s nephew must be _jetii_ , too. _Of course he is, though, why wouldn’t he be. Maybe Han and Leia are, too._

“He says it needs a hug from you.”

Din accepts the little plush and speaks to Grogu as though he’ll understand. “How about if you both get a hug?”

Grogu chirps happily. 

Ben translates, “He says yes.”

Din gathers the child and the toy up together, gently wrapping his arms around them. Ben nods, and then there’s that smile that looks so much like Luke’s. 

“I’m glad your dad’s here, Grogu.” He pats the child’s head, flashes Din one more grin, and leaves them to have some time together. _As a family?_ Din thinks, looking over Grogu’s head at parents and children looking at gifts, sharing cookies, and laughing together. 

_As a family._


End file.
